


don't get cut on my edges

by KingsGold



Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: F/F, Here's some porn, Kind of angry sex, Oops, didn't mean for this to happen but it did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingsGold/pseuds/KingsGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out Quinn likes to rile Rachel up just for the hell of it. This time it gets a little out of hand.</p><p>This is 100% porn. Picks up immediately after the Season 2 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't get cut on my edges

Long after Jeremy and Chet have left, Quinn and Rachel remain, reclined out in the cold by the pool, surrounded by so many fucking candles. Quinn nearly chuckles at the irony of their positions, almost exactly mirroring the way they ended last season in London: laying back and ruminating over a season’s worth of bad decisions. Quinn’s mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to decide exactly how to handle Rachel this time. 

Finally, Quinn turns to look at Rachel, pinning her with an accusatory stare. 

“Want to tell me what the hell happened tonight?"

“What the fuck did you want me to do, Quinn? It was all over. We were over.” Rachel sighs in exasperation, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of her lounger to face Quinn.

“I don’t know, Rachel, maybe tell me Jeremy was back? I don’t give a shit if you didn’t have anything to do with what he did, but when I told you to take Coleman down this really isn’t what I meant.” Quinn crosses her legs, sighing with faux annoyance. Sometimes she thinks she incites these arguments with Rachel just for the hell of it. It’s not going to change anything, but maybe she likes seeing Rachel riled up. Just a little.

“Yeah if I remember correctly your exact words to me were ‘I’m producing this finale, go handle it.’ Well, Jeremy handled it. It’s over.” Rachel - ever the avoider of conflict - gets up and starts blowing out candles in an attempt to exempt her from making eye contact with Quinn, she’s sure.

“You’re insane, you know that, right? This whole goddamn season, running around doing whatever the fuck you want to do, because Rachel knows best. Right? Isn’t that right?” Quinn goads, gleefully anticipating Rachel’s anger.

“Fuck you, Quinn.” 

Quinn almost laughs.

She embraces the fire, the adrenaline rush of finally putting Rachel in her place making her giddy as she stands up, gesturing with a finger at Rachel like a disapproving parent. 

“No, you know what? I let you try to figure your shit out this season. I gave you your breathing room even though I should have fired your ass the second you went to Gary.“ 

“Breathing room? You stole the fucking show from me, Quinn! What the hell kind of EP pops onto set and decides to run the show? You wanted me as showrunner, let me be the damn showrunner” Rachel spits out, furiously. She’s only inches from Quinn’s face and Quinn momentarily forgets whatever the fuck she was going to say, suddenly fixated on Rachel’s lips.

They both pause for a beat, caught up in something light years beyond this conversation.  

 

 

The next thing Quinn knows, they’ve moved the short distance from the terrace to the house and she has Rachel slammed up against the door to her office, lips on hers while hands work furiously to divest her of her jacket. 

 

 

What the fuck were they just fighting about?

Quinn doesn’t care.

She pulls back for a second to gauge Rachel's expression, just in case, expecting to find... she's not sure what. Hesitation? Surprise? Fear? But instead she's met with blown out pupils and Rachel licking her lips before grabbing Quinn by the back of her neck and pulling her in for more. 

Before Quinn can fully process it, she's instinctively pressing her thigh between Rachel's legs and relishing in the breathy sound Rachel releases into her mouth. The tingle that runs down her spine at the noise is incomparable to anything she's ever felt, and she's struck by the absurdity of their situation.  

This is Rachel. Her Rachel. Hair mussed, eyes glazed, horny as fuck and grinding against her thigh.  

Rachel. 

She's only ever seen her like this in the middle of a network schmoozefest, drunk or high or both, dragging the nearest walking six pack into a bedroom. But this time, it's directed at her. No alcohol. No drugs. Just Rachel and Quinn and their tongues and teeth and wandering hands. Her touch causing Rachel to rock her hips,  _just like that,_ against Quinn's hipbone. Quinn feels her panties dampen at the concept of Rachel so blatantly seeking out her own pleasure. Giving herself up to Quinn. Begging. 

Unable to draw it out another second, Quinn pulls back, fixing Rachel in an intense stare while popping the button on her jeans with practiced ease. Rachel's chest is heaving, back arched, still pressing her hips into Quinn. Pupils dilated, teeth digging into her lower lip in anticipation. 

Quinn smiles, almost predatorily. Then suddenly she's pushing Rachel's jeans and panties down out of the way and finally, _finally_ sliding her fingers where Rachel is most desperate for her. Quinn finds her digits immediately slick with Rachel's come and she nearly can't breathe.  

"Fuck, Goldie. You're dripping"  Quinn croons in Rachel's ear. 

If this is what the deep end feels like, she'll welcome it. Gladly. Her senses are assaulted with Rachel; Quinn can see the beads of sweat pooling on her delicate collarbone, feel her come dripping into the palm of her hand and the heat of her own breath against Rachel's skin, hear Rachel's frenzied panting just inches from her ear. 

And Quinn very nearly can't handle the look on Rachel's face when she finally slips two long, slender fingers inside. 

Rachel lets out a gasp and a whimper - far higher pitched than Quinn would have ever anticipated - and Quinn feels a sudden increase in wetness between her own legs. She curves the tips of her fingers experimentally; another sudden gasp and Rachel's soft _ah!_ hits her ear in a burst of hot breath. 

"You would do anything I asked you to right now, wouldn't you?" Quinn asks with unencumbered awe. 

Rachel just bites her lip and whimpers, pressing her hips to tilt herself more fully into Quinn's palm. Rachel lets the nails she digs into the nape of Quinn's neck answer for her. 

She would do anything for Quinn. 

"Good girl, Goldie"

The alliterative praise rolls off Quinn's tongue, a raspy, stilted exhale punctuated by the thrusting of her fingers. At Rachel's whimper, Quinn increases the pace, driving almost forcefully into Rachel. Fucking her, roughly. Obscene noises fill the room: the slick sound of Quinn's fingers; her palm grinding wetly against Rachel's swollen clit; the positively filthy sounds escaping Rachel's lips.  

Quinn can barely hold herself together. She never could have imagined fucking Rachel would be like this. How responsive she would be. How eager to take Quinn's fingers and spread her legs a little wider. She's overcome with the desire to claim Rachel, to leave marks, to overpower her and leave her entirely at her mercy, begging for relief, for release, for that last push to take her over the edge. She growls aloud at the thought and Rachel's soft "unh" in response galvanizes her into action. Quinn threads her fingers in Rachel's hair and yanks. Hard.

Rachel comes then, with no warning.

Entirely silent, her orgasm overtakes her, eyes rolling back in her head and hips pressing down, trying to take more of Quinn's fingers, already buried to the knuckle. _So Goldie does like it rough._ Quinn bites her lip and pushes down her arousal as well as her pride at once again being right, filing that dirty little tidbit away for her own personal enjoyment. 

Rachel's breathy grunts punctuate each roll of her hips as she comes down, but before she even has a chance to slow, Quinn is fucking her again. Harder. Rachel's incoherent sounds fill the room as Quinn pours every ounce of strength into taking her higher, fucking her deeper. Rachel's nails dig deep lines down Quinn's bare shoulders and she can feel the blood beading on the surface of her skin, adding fuel to the already uncontrollable flames of her arousal as Rachel gives herself over to Quinn entirely. 

"Fuck!" Rachel cries, and Quinn can't give a single fuck about the entire crew striking the set just on the other side of the office door, for the thin walls separating the office from their suitor's room. Not when Rachel is nearly incoherent and falling apart under her touch. Finally. 

_Quinn, god, fuck me please_

Quinn adds a third finger, curling them inside Rachel while digging the heel of her right hand roughly into her swollen clit, left hand tugging forcefully at strands of Rachel's hair. 

_Fuck! Quinn!_

Rachel is delirious and Quinn steals a look. Eyes rolled back in her head, back arched, hips rolling into Quinn's hand, her mouth open spewing the filthiest words... Quinn feels her stomach twist with desire, the need for Rachel's hands, Rachel's mouth. She growls and pitches forward, sinking her teeth into the pristine skin of Rachel's neck.

Rachel lets out an unearthly, high pitched scream as she comes for the second time, flooding Quinn's palm and rocking her hips against her mentor. 

_QuinnQuinnQuinnQuinnQuinnQuinn_

Rachel whimpers on repeat, directly into her ear as she comes down: trembling, sweaty, twitching with every subsequent movement of Quinn's fingers inside her. 

Quinn smiles devilishly as she slips out of Rachel and brings her three drenched fingers to her mouth, making eye contact. Rachel moans again, and throws herself forward to meet Quinn's mouth with hers. Quinn shivers a little at the thought of Rachel tasting herself on her lips. She pulls away to peer into Rachel's sex-glazed eyes and before Quinn can process the entirety of what just happened, Rachel has turned around, stumbling as she pulls her deeper into her own office and down onto the couch. 

Rachel is reclined on the couch, pulling at Quinn's shoulders until she situates herself, one hand on either side of Rachel's face, knees bracing against her hips. The distance between her knees causes her pencil skirt to ride up and she immediately feels Rachel's hands move to her exposed thighs. 

Quinn can't help but grind down against Rachel. She's straddling her hot protege on a couch so she really can't be faulted for this weakness.

"I swear to god, Goldie" Quinn warns, not about to accept not getting her way. Too worked up to wait.

Rachel smiles, an eerie reflection of Quinn's earlier teasing, and continues just kissing her furiously until Quinn lets out an accidental moan of frustration agains Rachel's lips. Rachel is suddenly galvanized into action, hiking Quinn's skirt up around her hips and tearing a seam in the process, reaching up underneath and shoving her panties to the side while simultaneously pulling Quinn up until she's straddling Rachel's face. 

They lock eyes for one solid moment, Quinn hovering just inches above Rachel's mouth, before she finally sinks down. 

Holy fuck.

Rachel’s mouth is good for far more than just insubordination, apparently. After two tentative licks she commits fully and envelops Quinn’s entire sex in her hot, wet mouth. _God bless Vassar’s women’s studies program_ , Quinn thinks, biting her lower lip just in time to muffle a deep groan. Jesus fuck, Rachel is good at this.

Quinn can't remember the last time she was fully invested in sex without thoughts of budgets or to do lists or idiot PAs invading her concentration. But tonight... 

Tonight all she can comprehend is Rachel's mouth - her tongue and, _oh fuck_ , her teeth. 

She’s already there, inches from the edge. She stops giving a shit about Rachel’s ability to breathe and just presses her hips down, riding Rachel’s face in earnest. Rachel moans enthusiastically, muffled by Quinn and her grinding. Quinn rolls her hips once, twice more against Rachel’s tongue before coming with a softly verbalized exhale. 

“Well, then.” Quinn manages, as she scoots back to straddle Rachel’s hips while adjusting her skirt 

Rachel grins, mouth still wet with the evidence of all that transpired just moments ago.

“Yeah. You were saying?” she cocks an eyebrow at Quinn in challenge.

“Shut up, Goldie.” Quinn chuckles. 

They'll deal with Jeremy later. 

**Author's Note:**

> Was going for a good old fashioned argument, ended up with porn. Such is life. 
> 
> It's the first I've ever written so please yell at me if there are too many cliches. Or commas.


End file.
